


Let Me Hold Your Hand

by ColourlessZero



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-06-09 23:58:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6929641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColourlessZero/pseuds/ColourlessZero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all begins with a simple glass of alcohol mixed with memories and a time that can't be replicated. </p><p>When the burn recedes, when eyes are clear again what will Suga see?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Come Back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor/gifts).



> A very special fic for [karasunovolleygays](http://karasunovolleygays.tumblr.com/) on tumblr [(TobeOrNotToBeAGryffindor on AO3)](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor).
> 
> This was actually intended to be a oneshot. Somehow, it just grew and grew until it actually had to be a multichapter fic to properly resolve it.
> 
> So here we are, an EnnoSuga fic with the prompt "Old friends and new beginnings."
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy it ^w^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There's one bit that may be triggering for some readers. It contains non-consensual touching. Use ctrl+F/command+F *** to skip the section if you need to.

Late into the night all the shops on the little winding street are empty except for a few bars and restaurants lit up with music and laughter. In the quiet coldness outside moths flutter beneath the yellow glow of streetlights.

Ennoshita adjusts Suga’s arm over his shoulder, “This way?”

A lonely car passes, intense light and shadow sliding over them. Suga’s skin is so pale Ennoshita begins to worry.

Breath coming out in a foggy white cloud lit up by the streetlights, Suga groggily points ahead of him. “Almost there.”

Suga is probably the most coherent drunk Ennoshita has ever met. If it isn't for the greenish tinge to Suga's normally healthy glow or his forehead wrinkled in concentration just to stay upright nobody will guess that he is, in fact, incredibly drunk.

Right now Ennoshita questions his decision to let Suga drink as much as he wanted. He blames Futakuchi (“A good drink makes anyone feel better! Especially the contrast between hangover and post-hangover, Chikara.”). In his defense though, over the years Futakuchi has mastered the art of blurring the line between sarcasm and blunt seriousness.

Supporting Suga on his arm, Ennoshita can't shake off the feeling that something is about to happen. It's not necessarily a bad feeling. Just...strange. Like an event that should only be in movies or books. If that’s true then he wouldn’t be surprised. The drama from earlier that night is definitely a fitting example.

To be honest they've been walking for a while now. Suga says he lives nearby, but Ennoshita wonders if he has his directions muddled. Especially since Suga seems absolutely convinced that Ennoshita knows where he lives.

“I can’t believe you forgot,” Suga laughs. “You’ve been over a hundred times.”

He's also said that a hundred times though. Ennoshita has never been to Suga's home.

As they slowly meander along the path Ennoshita recalls the previous events that led him to being responsible for his drunk upperclassman. This may or may not be his fault.

The night began innocently enough.

Gravel crunching beneath his feet the sky was a deep blue edged with just a touch of fading sunlight. In the middle of the narrow street lined with stores and small eating places an impressive bar and restaurant with traditional architecture sprawled across the centre. The cloth hanging over the entrance fluttered gently and warmth gushed out of it as Ennoshita made his way towards it. He hoped he wasn’t late.

Pushing aside the cloth, Ennoshita strode into the bar and restaurant amongst a chorus of greetings from the staff. The scene unfolded to reveal a beautiful rustic interior. Misshapen tables and stools made from varnished tree trunks scattered about the place and little rice paper lanterns glowed softly from the ceiling. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. The air smelled like fried food and soy sauce. Someone’s teppanyaki was sizzling among the high-pitched twinkle of clinking glasses as laughing friends caught up together.

A waitress with sleek black hair piled atop her head trotted up, heels clacking with efficiency against the polished wooden flooring. Ennoshita briefly wondered if the owner knew high heels were bad for hardwood flooring. They’d be expensive and annoying to repair.

“Good evening, sir. Do you have a reservation?”

He bowed slightly, “A table for Sawamura-san?”

“Yes, of course! Please follow me.”

He followed the waitress feeling a little nervous. It’s been a long time since he had last seen his friends from high school. Sometimes he felt guilty for not making time to see them more often. Before he knew it, the years slipped through his fingers like running water.

Work had kept him busy, making free time practically nonexistent. He had his back bent with his nose pressed to scripts and storyboards scribbled out in haste. Any naive assumptions that he would stop procrastinating once he became an adult were immediately banished. It got so bad he hardly took breaks and in the process ended up needing glasses.

He wondered how the others have changed.

As he and the waitress turned a corner a wild scream greeted them.

“AYYY! CHIKARA!” Noya tried to climb over the table before being pulled back down by Asahi and Tanaka. His cheeks were ruddy and his large eyes had a wilder gleam than Ennoshita remembered.

“He’s only had one,” laughed Tanaka, wrestling Noya back into his seat.

Asahi raised his hands in surrender, “Don’t say it, Tanaka, I'm begging you.”

“But he's so small it went straight through him!”

“I am 159 centimeters and three millimeters - and still growing - Ryu! I will fight you and I will destroy you!”

_Oh no_. He hadn't even sat down and Noya’s already drunk. Noya launched all 159.3 centimeters (and counting) of his almighty self at Tanaka. Asahi, Kinoshita and Narita leapt out of their seats to pry them apart before they could cause any real damage. Tsukishima, always the silent observer, filmed the whole thing on his phone with a smirk on his face. Yamaguchi fluttered about, trying to see if there's some way he could help. Kageyama and Hinata on the other hand watched them wrestle, making bets on the winner and arguing over who had better stats (“Noya-sempai’s strength is at least an eight out of ten.” “But he's short. Attitude doesn't translate to physical strength. So I say a six.” “Eight!” “Six!”)

Ennoshita remained standing at the doorway, his eye twitching. Was it too late to say that he didn’t know these people?

The waitress wore a calm, patient expression that Ennoshita knew all too well. Her fingers gripped her notebook tightly and her feet were subtly angled away from the private room. She would love nothing more than to leave this very instant without dealing with these hooligans.

Ennoshita gave her an apologetic smile and a slight bow, “Thank you, we'll be fine here.”

All the tension left her shoulders. She bowed deeply and hurried off before anyone could change their mind.

At long last, Noya was back in his seat. Kinoshita and Narita waved Ennoshita over to them.

“Long time no see!” exclaimed Kinoshita, hair slightly longer but as wild as ever.

“Yea, it’s been so long,” Ennoshita settles down between them. “Too long. I’m sorry about that.”

Narita poured him a cup of sake, “Must be tough being a director. How many years has it been?”

“I think it’s been two years?” He scratched at a spot on his cheek and smiled sheepishly, “Sorry, it’s a bad habit of mine. Disappearing without explanation.”

“Chikara’s grown up and gotten all mysterious, huh.” Noya piped in brightly, having forgotten all about the scuffle from before.

Ennoshita took a small sip with a smirk, “And you haven’t grown at all.” He couldn’t resist. Noya was making this too easy.

He looked around the table. A few faces were missing.

Tanaka answered his questioning look, “We're still waiting for Daichi-san and Suga-san.”

“Ah! There they are.”

Ennoshita looked up just in time to see the same waitress making a hasty escape.

Standing in the doorway were Suga and Daichi shrugging off jackets and coats.

Ennoshita almost did a double take. The pair hadn't changed much compared to the first years, but they both looked more mature. Ennoshita would say they've aged like a fine wine. Daichi became more muscular (if that was even possible). Apparent even with his work suit on, looking rugged but somehow carrying an intense air of reliability. Suga's face had become a little more angular and his hair was longer now. His fashion sense had always been the best. He looked like the kind of guy anyone would be happy to bring home to meet their parents.

“Sorry we're late. Traffic was awful after work.” Suga smiled warmly.

“Alright, let’s order some food!” Daichi popped out of the room to get someone to take their order.

“MEAT!!!” Tanaka and Noya roared.

“Stop that,” Daichi said firmly with a patient look, “You're scaring her.”

The same waitress, unfortunately, was stuck serving them again. Her calm expression was just a little bit strained when the local simpletons (Tanaka, Noya, Kageyama and Hinata) clamoured to order nothing but beef.

”Ahem!” Daichi coughs darkly. “You shouldn’t ignore other foods. Eating just that isn’t good for you.”

“Yes, dad.”

Absolute silence.

Kageyama became redder and redder with every passing second before correcting himself, “I mean captain! Wait, no, I mean...Sawamura...san.”

Daichi called the waitress over to him and placed an order with such maturity it made Ennoshita think, _Ahhh, now that’s a real adult._

Suga made a few suggestions, “And some vegetables. Can we get some rice as well?”

“Of course, sir.”

First came the salads, much to the disappointment of Tanaka and Noya. Seaweed salad sprinkled with sesame seeds and seasoned with just the right amount of sweetness and saltiness accompanied by fragrant sesame oil. The other salad had a little bit of meat in it. It's soft-shelled crab on a bed of salad greens, cucumber and carrot slivers. Crunchy and bursting with the taste of the ocean.

After that was a heart attack on a plate: grilled scallops hidden in a smooth and creamy cheese sauce. Toasted to a golden brown colour. Ennoshita knew it was bad for him, but he couldn’t resist it. Eat first, worry later.

The meat  that came later was so fresh it gleamed with a subtle glow. Everyone gulped audibly. Beef and tuna tataki. Seared just on the outside, leaving the meat on the inside juicy and succulent. Seasoned with spring onions, a dash of wasabi, a sprinkling of sesame seeds and a sauce that hung between sweet and savoury. It's the taste of heaven.

The ocean didn't disappoint either. Grilled squid cooked so delicately Ennoshita’s teeth sink into it with ease. Nothing like the usual chewy squid he had at home that felt like he was chewing on rubber for an eternity.

The dishes kept coming and disappearing within seconds. Ennoshita could hardly keep count.

By the time they inhaled the last few orders of sashimi, warm sake made a reappearance on the table. It’s completely normal and made a lot of sense to Ennoshita. Why shouldn’t there be sake when they’re celebrating a reunion with the team?

He should have reconsidered. Nothing prepared him for the moment when everything fell apart at the seams.

At first it's harmless. So of course he didn't hear the alarm bells. Nostalgia distilled in every sip they took spilled out as a precious memory from their shared past.

There’s laughter, mock rage and indignant squawks. Mostly laughter. Then they trod on a landmine.

”You know what I miss the most?” Hinata swirled his drink in a glass and looked into his face reflected in it. Older now, his face had become more angular without the last of his baby fat. “How Sawamura-san and Suga-san were like my second parents. It felt like a family. Thank you all so much for putting up with me.”

“I agree. You were such a pain.” Kageyama swiped Hinata’s drink and looked down at the struggling ball of orange.

“And you still are.” Drawled Tsukishima. Just like back in high school he rarely spoke, but when he did it’s always a well-timed jab.

Hinata gave an indignant squawk and lunged for his cup. Kageyama pushed his face away, taking a huge gulp from it. Hinata’s short arms struggle to reach across the distance, “Get your own, Kageyama, you bastard!”

Their table erupted with laughter. _Some things never change_ , Ennoshita thought with a warm, familiar feeling blossoming in his chest. He would later learn that feeling was, in fact, a false sense of security.

Kageyama smiled openly, the action reaching all the way into his bright blue eyes.

_Ahh, that’s changed. Kageyama’s mellowed out a lot,_ noted Ennoshita. He remembered how Kageyama sometimes didn’t seem to know how to relax. Always seeming to be more comfortable in perpetual motion.

“Sawamura-san and Suga-san were so great together. It’s like they were made for each other.” Kageyama continued.

Ennoshita almost choked on his drink. He coughed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. _There it is. Kageyama’s honesty strikes again like an asteroid smashing into the earth._

“Yea, what happened? Why did you guys break up?” Hollered Noya.

_Noya, no._

“H-hey.” Asahi’s large, indecisive hands over Noya. Unsure of how to get him to stop talking he’s absolutely mortified, shooting worried glances at Suga and Daichi. He looked towards Ennoshita pleadingly.

Ennoshita’s palms grew sweaty. _Me? I don’t know how to stop this._

Asahi signalled him with his eyes first to Noya and Tanaka then to Daichi and Suga who were edging away from each other in their seats. The cajoling atmosphere from before thickened into tension. They refused to meet each other’s eyes.

Tanaka flung an arm around Noya, his fist narrowly missing the waiter who came in to clear away the table, “It’s a shame! Have you tried getting back together? I feel like you should give it another chance.”

_I’ve got no choice. Tanaka really doesn’t know when to shut up!_

“That’s it you two. Time to go home.” Ennoshita clamps a firm hand over each of their mouths before something else comes pouring out. The sleepy smile on his face concealed the pressure he felt. He nodded at Kinoshita and Narita who helped him haul the troublemakers to their feet.

Unsteady on their feet, Tanaka and Noya made muffled protests insisting they can still throw down more rounds. Ennoshita pushed past the cloth and stepped out into the cold. He called for a cab as Kinoshita and Narita support the other two who could barely walk on their own.

“To be safe we’ll see them home. They'll probably fall onto train tracks like this.”

They piled into the cab and Ennoshita watched them go. He didn’t want to go back inside. Tanaka and Noya might be gone, but what’s said is said. The words have already done damage. Why didn’t he think to stop them from drinking too much?

Ennoshita turned to go back inside and almost crashed into Yamaguchi with a stormy faced Tsukishima following closely behind him. Tsukishima had Kageyama and Hinata by their collars in each hand.

”What happened?” _Are Daichi-san and Suga-san ok?_ He felt a headache coming on right between the eyes. He was only out for two minutes.

“Tch! These two couldn’t handle the divorce of their surrogate parents.” Tsukishima let them go. They dropped ungracefully to the ground with sullen faces.

“We’re sorry.” Hinata said quietly. “It’s all Kageyama’s fault. You said they were perfect for each other.”

“But it’s true!”

Yamaguchi shook his head. There’s no point arguing with them. “Let's get you two home, ok?” He supported Hinata, gently leading him away by the elbow, “Come on.”

Kageyama nodded, lids already slipping over his blue eyes.

Tsukishima glared down at him, “I'm going to have to carry him aren't I?”

“Sorry, Tsukki.”

“Do you want me to call a cab?” Ennoshita suggested.

“We all live a short walk away from here. So there’s no need to spend the money.” said Tsukishima shortly, glaring at a dozing Kageyama. “Especially not on these two.”

“Alright, take care.” _Tsukishima, as abrasive as always,_ thought Ennoshita.

In contrast to Yamaguchi’s gentleness, Tsukishima roughly flung Kageyama over his shoulder.

Kageyama jolted awake for a moment, “Why are you carrying me like a sack of flour?”

“Would you rather have me carry you bridal style?”

Kageyama balked.

“That’s what I thought,” Tsukishima cut in. He readjusted Kageyama on his shoulder into the most uncomfortable position possible. Shoulder jabbing into Kageyama’s ribs. “You should have thought twice about drinking that much, your majesty.”

Ennoshita sighed as he watched an irritated Tsukishima carrying a knocked out Kageyama on his back and responsible Yamaguchi hobbling along with a repentant Hinata who was wailing apologies into the night.

When he finally got the courage to get back inside, the warmth surrounded him like a glove. Despite the welcoming interior of the bar and restaurant the easy atmosphere from before had evaporated to be replaced by cold tension. Ennoshita was almost afraid of what he might walk back into. Only Asahi was left with Suga and Daichi, who still weren't looking at each other.

Daichi saw him and hastily grabbed his jacket, “I have to go.” Eyes downcast, he looked back at Asahi and Suga while at the same time not really looking at them at all. “I’ll see you around. Take care.”

When Daichi passed Ennoshita he put his hand on Ennoshita’s shoulder. Fist white-knuckled, holding on to his jacket. “ _Please_ , Ennoshita.”

His face was indecipherable even to Ennoshita. If his strong former captain was running away then would he be able to help? Ennoshita wasn’t sure, but he would try, “I’ll do what I can.”

“Thank you.” Daichi whispered, his voice a passing breeze as he disappeared behind the cloth away from the light.

“I’m fine. You should leave, Asahi. You chefs wake up at 5am to work, don’t you?” Suga smiled brightly and playfully punches Asahi in the arm. It so unnatural it’s almost painful to look at.

Asahi rubbed the spot on his arm, eyebrows drew close in concern. “Are you sure? I can stay if you want. Call in late.”

“Nonsense, weekends are the busiest aren’t they?”

“But--”

Suga’s look turned poisonous for just a second, “Leave.”

The air in the room felt like it got sucked into a vacuum. Ennoshita paused at the door as silence stretches into this new void.

Asahi broke the tension with a firm but gentle voice, “Ok, call me when you get home, alright?”

Suga didn’t reply. Instead he put a hand on Asahi’s arm, his face apologetic when he nodded. Asahi folded his larger hand over Suga's with a worried look before leaving quietly.

Asahi muttered quietly in his ear, “Ennoshita, could you make sure he gets home safe.”

“I will, Asahi-san.”

Slowly and cautiously, Ennoshita slipped into the seat beside Suga’s.

“I’m fine, Ennoshita.” Suga’s smile wavered before shining full force.  “You can go home if you want.”

_He’s said “I’m fine” so much it’s like he’s trying to convince himself._ Ennoshita squared up his shoulders. He had no intention of leaving. “Suga-san, how about some drinks?”

“Huh?”

“Yea. You weren’t drinking to make sure we all get home right?”

“I can always trust you to notice things like that, Ennoshita.” Suga looked away and for a moment his mask slipped. He held an empty cup thoughtfully, “I suppose a few drinks wouldn’t hurt.”

“I’ll make sure you get home if you get completely smashed.” Joked Ennoshita.

“Reliable as always. I won’t hold back then!”

+

Suga wasn’t kidding when he said he wouldn’t hold back. Ennoshita was a little stunned.

“More.”

Suga threw money at a passing waiter.

“Another.”

He slammed down another empty glass, to be added to the little pile beside them. Ennoshita hadn’t downed a single cup since Suga started.

All the while Ennoshita stayed silent. If Suga wanted to talk or let it out, then he would have done so already. It’s best not to pry, Ennoshita decided.

After god knows how many cups, Suga’s mask fell and he poured words in a slur out of his mouth. Enough to match all the alcohol he flooded his body with.

“I knew my relationship with Daichi would never last,” Taking a long draught from his cup, Suga’s face twisted as the alcohol burned all the way down his throat to linger in his stomach. “Even though it felt like the most natural thing in the world I knew it wouldn't work.”

“I knew.” Suga slammed his glass onto the table with a clatter. He sharply ordered another round after flagging down a very nervous waiter.

The waiter asked Ennoshita quietly, “Sir, is your friend alright? If he gets too drunk…” He casted a worried look Suga, who was glaring at his empty cup with a dark face etched with anger.

It didn’t suit him at all, that kind of face.

“Let him have another.” Ennoshita murmured.

“But it still hurt.” Suga continued, oblivious to the waiter’s concerns.

“He needs it.” Ennoshita told the waiter while keeping a watchful eye on his upperclassman.

A look of understanding dawned on the waiter’s face. When Ennoshita looked at his eyes he knew words weren’t needed to explain anything. The waiter had seen his fair share of patrons drinking away their misery. He promptly retrieved a full bottle of sake, “Please take good care of him.” He left as quietly as he came to serve another customer.

“I always thought we would break up out of necessity, since we were going to different universities. You know what he told me, Ennoshita?”

“No.”

“He said,” Suga clenched his eyes shut briefly. His nose wrinkled like he’s trying to solve a difficult puzzle. Tracing a finger in the air he drew out thoughts from his foggy mind. “He said that the passion we had at the beginning wasn’t there anymore.” His hand dropped with a thud and his fingers landed in his half-filled cup, spilling sake onto the table. Streams ran across the sleek, varnished wood and dripped to the floor.

Ennoshita couldn’t tell if that was intentional or not. Maybe both. He had known the pair had broken up a few years ago. It wasn’t anything dramatic, though it was apparent to everyone that it hurt Suga. Even that was a bit of an understatement, but there weren’t any other more suitable words to describe it.

“Our relationship changed into something more stable and he didn’t want it.” With his sake-soaked fingers he drew an “x” on the table. “He didn’t want me anymore,” Taking a shuddering breath, he buried his face in his hand, “And now he’s with Kuroo.”

Ennoshita felt like he should do something as silence stretched on. Suga was still hiding his face, though Ennoshita didn’t need to see it to know what kind of expression he was making. To be honest, he didn’t think he had any words that could make Suga feel better.

“Do you need a hug?” Ennoshita nervously rubbed his hands on his trousers. He didn’t know what else to say.

Suga nodded and leaned heavily against him. Arms wrapped tightly around his waist, Suga hid his face in Ennoshita’s chest.

Ennoshita held him close. Suga sniffled a bit. Soon, Ennoshita felt his shirt go damp. Before he knew it Suga was sobbing on his shoulder.

He waved over the concerned waiter from before and discreetly paid for Suga's drinks. The waiter kindly handed him a packet of tissues. Ennoshita mouthed “Thank you” over Suga's back.

They stayed like that for a while until Ennoshita decided they should go home. It was close to midnight and it would be best if Suga got some rest. It wasn't until Suga stood up that Ennoshita realised how drunk he really was. Unsteady on his feet Suga swayed and lurched everywhere. He could barely support himself even when he's hobbling alongside a wall.

And that's how they ended up on empty streets looking for Suga's home.

Suga pulls at his sleeve, “We're here.”

“That’s excellent! Where are your ke--oh.”

“Let’s go, you haven’t visited in a long time.”

_Not today, Suga-san._ “No no no, you’ve had enough.”

Suga has led him back to the bar and restaurant they left earlier. He has been fooled. A part of him is impressed but responsibility tells him he really needs to get Suga home.

“Suga-san, where do you live?” He asks patiently.

Suga stares transfixed at the entrance, the image printed on his sepia eyes. The cloth at the entrance flutters with a cool night breeze. Warmth flickers out with little streams of light and laughter. An inviting sight that sings to Suga with a siren’s song.

“I need to get back to the bar, not back home. Why would _you_ care?” Suga squirms out of Ennoshita’s grasp. “I know what I’m doing.” He has taken hardly a step further when he ungracefully trips over nothing and falls flat on his face.

Ennoshita scurries over and crouches down to check if he hurt himself. “No you don’t!” This is even more troublesome than taking care of Tanaka and Noya. Probably because they only have one brain cell between them. Suga on the other hand is a relatively smart, unpredictable drunk. This is going to be a long night. “Suga-san, let me help you.”

In the end he has no choice but to take Suga to his own home. Suga stubbornly refuses to tell him where he lives and lashes out in an accusing tone, “I can’t believe you forgot about me so easily.”

He fumbles for his keys and tries to unlock the door one handed. With his other hand he tries to support an uncooperative Suga, who has draped himself over Ennoshita’s shoulder. When he finally finds the right key they all but stumble into the apartment.

Ennoshita has just locked the door when Suga pulls him around and pushes him against it. Suga’s urgent mouth crashes into Ennoshita’s. Lips parted in surprise, he can taste the alcohol on Suga’s tongue. A bitter burn slipping into his mouth.

Sharp realisation snaps Ennoshita’s attention to the situation at hand. Suga’s insistence that he knows where he lives, the way he lashed out--everything makes sense now. He gently pushes Suga back away from him.

Suga parts from him with a breath and a name on his lips, “Daichi.” Slender fingers tangle up in Ennoshita’s tie and yanks down hard enough to loosen it, he brings their lips crashing back together in a searing open-mouthed kiss.

Suga kisses him to the point he’s weak in the knees and Ennoshita hazily thinks, _This feels really nice._ He breaks away, his tone more breathless than he likes, “Stop. I'm not Daichi.”

***

 

Suga doesn’t seem to hear him though. Suddenly fleeting kisses and gentle touches light up fiery trails on his skin. Clumsy fingers tug at his shirt. Impatient, Suga pulls harder. Buttons ping loudly onto the floor.

Ennoshita scrabbles for Suga's hands in an attempt to stop him, “Wait--d--WHOA.”

Suga’s knee is pressed against his crotch, rubbing him through his trousers. Pleasure tingles through him.

When he looks at Suga he can't think. Reflected in Suga’s molten brown eyes are love and desire like Ennoshita is the only person in the world.

“Come back to me, Daichi.” Suga whispered in the searing heat between them.

Suga gently holds Ennoshita’s face in his hands, his thumbs tenderly brushing over soft skin. Slowly and sensually, he grinds his hardness against Ennoshita’s, rolling his burning body against Ennoshita.

Ennoshita’s breath hitches and he begins to pant. It definitely feels good, but this is--Shit. Suga's mouth is on his neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive spot. Somewhere at the back of his mind he registers deft fingers dip beneath his waistband. When did his belt end up on the floor?

 

***

“Enough.” His hands encircle the wrists of Suga's wandering hands.

Suga pauses with hurt flashing through his features. In a second he's trying to press himself flush against Ennoshita with something akin to desperation.

“Enough, Sugawara!” Ennoshita shouts. He can't imagine what's going through Suga's head. All he knows is that Suga sees Daichi.

He half-wrestles Suga off of him and tries to lead him to the couch.

It’s like ballroom dancing. Except neither of them are the least bit coordinated. Suga is incredibly drunk and Ennoshita is trying not to trip over their unsteady legs. All the while Suga mumbles garbled words, only saying Daichi’s name with clarity as he tries to tangle up himself with Ennoshita.

Their legs in disarray and Ennoshita’s oddly placed furniture is a recipe for disaster however. He almost gets Suga safely to the couch, but his leg catches on the coffee table sending them both plummeting towards the couch. Ennoshita curses himself for not putting his coffee table exactly where it’s supposed to be after vacuuming the apartment. Suga crashes on top of him. Too tired from struggling against Ennoshita’s iron grip. Ennoshita looks over him to see if he's hurt.

He _is_ hurt. Beyond Ennoshita’s imagination.

Rain falls from the earth of Suga's eyes. He looks at Ennoshita with pure, distilled pain, “Why am I not enough? I want you to come back, to love me again. _I love you._ ”

Ennoshita heaves a weary sigh. For a moment, just for a moment he can pretend to be Daichi. “I'm sorry, I can't.” He says gently.

In that moment he watches Suga’s heart shatter. Suga doesn’t hide his face like he did back at the bar. Fingers entangled in his tie and hands clenched into fists around his shirt Suga cries until he has no tears left and drifts off to a fitful sleep.

He wishes he didn’t have to say that, but it’s what Daichi would have said. Telling him anything else would have been even more cruel even if he won’t remember a thing the next morning.

Ennoshita holds Suga’s hand until he too drifts off to sleep. His other arm falls asleep under Suga's weight before he does.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this opening chapter piques your interest. Let me know what you think in the comments below =D


	2. Thank You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suga deals with the aftermath of a rather chaotic night.

Warm. There’s a soft, tender warmth around Suga. A gentle blossoming of cream white and pale gold wraps around him like a candle flame. Shifting between dreams and wakefulness he nuzzles into it, tugging it closer to him. It feels safe and familiar. It feels like home. 

He sighs in contentment.  _ It's been too long. What took you so long?  _

Something wriggles about at the back of his mind, struggling like a butterfly's paper thin wings between a child's fingers. Something important that he's forgotten. What is it? In a sleepy haze he tries to clear the fog with no real sense of urgency. After a while he gets bored of it. If he can't remember then it's probably not that important. Besides, it feels nice here and he doesn't want to leave. All he wants is to lie here with Daichi forever. 

_ Daichi.  _

That one name banishes the silky light in his dreams, replacing it with a cold, transparent crystal that cleaves through the thick blanket of fog wrapped around his mind.

Suddenly wide awake he’s greeted with the muted darkness beneath his eyelids. That arm around him and the even, slow breathing can't possibly belong to Daichi. He'd never hurt Kuroo like that by taking Suga home. Unless...maybe he listened to Kageyama. Saw that he was right about them being made for each other. Maybe he realised he was wrong. Maybe he chose Suga again! Maybe--!

Before he can stop it hope bubbles up inside him, drowning him in a wave. Cautiously, he opens his eyes. The light from the window is bright, stinging his eyes a little. The shirt he's holding onto is white.  _ Daichi was wearing a white shirt last night, _ heart beating wildly in his ribcage he sits up to look at his face. 

Oh. 

It's Ennoshita. Normally immaculate black hair now a mess of impressive bedhead and glasses askew.

Suga’s heart sank like a stone in water. He can't help that feeling of bitter disappointment. 

Ennoshita must have brought him home after he destroyed himself with drinks. Suga doesn’t remember being particularly helpful in giving him directions to get to his own home. 

The disappointment fades to a warm fuzzy feeling. Eyes crinkling into a warm smile he leans his head back on Ennoshita’s arm. ”Thank you,” Suga whispers quietly. He's lucky to have such a reliable friend.

A tiny snore erupts from Ennoshita. He frowns as though his own snore is in danger of startling him into waking up. 

Suga stifles his laughter. Ennoshita always looks sleepy, but Suga’s never actually seen him sleeping before. Out of curiosity, he pokes Ennoshita’s cheek lightly. Soft and pudgy. Just like a child's. It's kind of cute. Ennoshita mumbles in his sleep, wriggling a little into the couch. His head rolls to the side and Suga's eyes almost pop out of their sockets. 

On Ennoshita’s neck is a dark red and purple bruise.  _ Who put that there? _ Wondered Suga with a cheeky grin.  _ Looks like he had a good time. Hopefully his drunk upperclassman didn’t get in the way too much. _

He’s about to get up and leave when he really takes a good look at Ennoshita. The very first thing he notices is Ennoshita’s tie. Thin and silky, it's tangled up between his fingers. The second thing he notices is Ennoshita’s shirt. It’s all ruffled and out of place. Someone with rough hands had tried to tear his shirt off him. There are even some buttons missing. He can see a triangle of Ennoshita’s bare chest peeking out from the open shirt. Light skin dotted with the shadow of love marks. 

Suga looks at the tie in his hand, then at the shirt and back at his hand again. 

_ Oh. _

Slowly, he releases his fingers and it slithers out between his fingers like a poisonous snake. 

He remembers how the tie cut into his hands with the force he pulled Ennoshita towards him. He remembers how Ennoshita gasped against his lips, asking him to stop. He remembers the feeling of Ennoshita’s throbbing heat pressed against his own as he tasted the salt on Ennoshita’s skin--

_ Oh my god.  _ How could he have done this to poor Ennoshita? How could he let himself get that drunk? 

Suga raises his hand to touch the raw mark he made on Ennoshita’s neck but stops just short of it. He snatches his hand back in shame. It looks painful.

No matter how many times he apologises his behaviour last night is simply inexcusable. Unforgivable. Nobody should ever do this to their friends. 

Alright. First, he'll have to find a blanket for Ennoshita. Then find all those missing buttons. Next he'll make tea for hangovers and whip up a quick breakfast. Hopefully he can find everything in Ennoshita’s home.

Resolving to make things right Suga stands up too quickly only to sink back into the couch with a suppressed groan. Resting his elbows on his knees he rubs his temples. It feels like there are a bunch of hyperactive children bouncing around in his head. Maybe getting started on that tea first is a better idea. 

Tea first then and some painkillers. Getting up more slowly this time he wanders about until he finds the kitchen.

After washing down some painkillers with a cup of ginger tea, which he found stashed away in a cabinet, he feels slightly better. His head is still pounding, but at least he can now move quickly without stumbling too much. 

Now, a blanket for Ennoshita. Suga looks at Ennoshita’s open shirt and instantly feels guilty. If it isn't for the missing buttons he can at least cover Ennoshita a little better. 

He looks around a bit and opens a few closets. None of them seem to be for bedclothes though. Extra blankets are probably in Ennoshita’s room then. It'll be rude to rummage around in Ennoshita’s room without permission. Suga taps his chin thoughtfully with a knuckle.

Ah! His coat is pretty warm. He can put that over Ennoshita for now. Slipping his coat off his shoulders he carefully tucks it over Ennoshita. He's still fast asleep. Suga can't help but think,  _ I’m sorry, please don't have nightmares about me.  _

Suga promptly gets to work looking for the missing buttons. Luckily they didn’t roll too far. Most of them were around the door. There’s just one that’s missing. Where could it be?

Getting down on his knees he squints underneath furniture and at all the little dark spaces between them. Maybe this stray button rolled further. He checks under the couch. There at the back he can see the button. Reaching his arm under he flattens himself to the ground and stretches for the button. He wriggles closer,  _ Just a little more.  _

”Oof!” Something knocks into Suga's side and tumbles over his back.

“Gah!” That yell is quickly followed by a crash. 

Suga bolts upright,  _ Please don't let it be what I think it is.  _

It is. He turns his head stiffly to see Ennoshita sprawled on the ground for a moment. 

Ennoshita sits up and looks over his shoulder. “Good morning, Suga-san,” He says brightly, straightening his glasses. A thin line of blood spurts from his forehead. 

"Ennoshita, you’re bleeding!”

He touches his fingers to his forehead. They come away with blood smeared on the tips. “Ah, I am.”

Ennoshita gets up and Suga rushes to his side, offering Ennoshita his arm. 

Ennoshita laughs a little but accepts his arm all the same, “It’s only a scratch, Suga-san. I won’t faint.”

A little too late Suga realises he doesn’t actually know where the first aid kit is. They stand there in awkward silence. Suga unsure what to do while Ennoshita seems eternally amused. Maybe he hit his head really hard. Should he call an ambulance in case there’s a concussion?

Then Ennoshita is gently leading the way, keeping a watchful eye on Suga. He can’t put his finger on it, but it feels like Ennoshita is the one taking care of him instead of the other way around. It’s a little weird since he’s the one who’s injured, but Suga has to admit so far he’s not doing a very good job of helping Ennoshita.

Ennoshita reaches up a shelf and takes down a small first aid kit. He points at his forehead, “Do you mind doing this for me? I can’t see where the cut is.”

“Of course, leave it to me.” Suga takes the kit from Ennoshita, glad that he can be useful. He can at least do this for Ennoshita properly. “Bend down a little?”

Ennoshita bows his head, black hair falling over his forehead. Suga brushes his hair out of the way. The bleeding looks like it’s stopped. Suga cleans off the blood, “Thank goodness it's not a deep cut!”

“Good thing I'm always behind the camera.” Jokes Ennoshita. 

He dabs a bit of antiseptic over it and smooths a bandage over the top. It’s just the blood that makes it look worse. 

“I’m really sorry, Ennoshita.”

Ennoshita shrugs, “Well, it's partly my fault. I wasn't looking where I--”

“I'm not talking about that.” Suga interrupts quietly, not quite meeting Ennoshita’s eyes. 

There’s a long silence. To be honest, he's a little afraid of looking at Ennoshita right now. What kind of expression is he making? Disgust? Disappointment? 

Instead Ennoshita rests a gentle hand on his shoulder and speaks in a tone that matches his simple touch. “You were drunk, so it’s ok, Suga-san.”

Suga whips away from beneath Ennoshita’s hand.“No, it’s not! Ennoshita, I’m so sorry.” He launches himself into a ninety degree bow. “I’ll never drink like that ever again.”

“Suga-san!” Hand still hanging in the same place Ennoshita is distressed. Unsure how to get Suga to stop bowing.

Suga lifts his head and looks up at Ennoshita. “At least let me sew the buttons back on your shirt. Do you have a sewing kit?”

Ennoshita waves frantic hands. His senior really shouldn’t be bowing to him like that. “I do, but Suga-san, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“No, I’ve caused you so much trouble.”

“Would it make you feel better?”

“Yes.”

Ennoshita dashes off somewhere. Suga hears a clattering. Within moments, Ennoshita offers him a small sewing kit with both hands. 

Suga takes it and finally straightens up. He plops down on the couch. Fishing out some white thread he squints at the pincushion, seeing which needle would be the best. They all seem about the same so he grabs one at random.

It takes a while to thread the needle properly. Holding one button in place he promptly gets to work on the shirt. He tries to poke the needle through one of the holes, but misses. Briefly he wonders if it really is a good idea to be sewing right now with a hangover. Just as the thought exits his mind his needle slips. With a sharp gasp the shirt falls in his lap.

Like lightning Ennoshita flashes to his side. Ennoshita grabs his hand and inspects the growing droplet of blood on Suga’s fingertip. An uncharacteristic frown creases between his eyebrows.

“It’s only a scratch, Ennoshita. I won’t faint.” He grins, repeating Ennoshita’s words. It really is only a pinprick of pain that lasted a few seconds.

“You’re in no state to be using pointy things right now.” Ennoshita deftly takes the needle from his hand and sticks it back in the pincushion. “How about taking the shirt home with you and you can fix it when you have time? I have plenty of other shirts.”

Suga nods, “I’ll try to fix it as soon as I can.”

After packing the shirt in a paper bag along with the buttons, Ennoshita ends up making breakfast for them both. He ties an apron around his waist, “Do you like omelettes Suga-san?”

At the word “omelettes” Suga immediately perks up, “It’s my favourite breakfast food.”

“I'll make that then,” Ennoshita pats Suga on the shoulder as he steps into the kitchen. 

Suga watches Ennoshita's back moving about the kitchen from the dinner table. He has become more broad-shouldered and he moves with a grace Suga has never noticed before. Ennoshita seems more comfortable in his own skin now compared to their days in high school. 

_ When did Ennoshita grow up so fast? _ Suga thinks enviously with fondness. Suga on the other hand still feels like a child. He doesn’t think he's changed much. Does everyone feel that way?

Suga's thoughts are interrupted as soon as the most perfect omelette he's ever seen materialises in front of him. “One for you,” Ennoshita says quietly, a smile in his voice.

Ennoshita places his own breakfast on the table before seating himself, “And one for me.”

“Ennoshita, do you not get hangovers at all? You seem so refreshed.”

“I didn’t drink as much as you, Suga-san,” Ennoshita teases. “I only had the one cup at the start.”

“Ah, that’s right.” Suga drags a hand down his face with a laugh. “Next time you drink in my place. It'll probably be safer for everyone.”

“Oh, I don't know about that. I didn't expect you to be so aggressive,” Ennoshita’s previously relaxed posture instantly becomes rigid. He snaps into a seated bow, “Sorry, that was out of line.”

Suga waves his fork around, “It's ok. I'm just relieved you don't hate me.”

Ennoshita is quiet for a moment, watching Suga closely. Slowly he relaxes and leans back in his chair with a thoughtful face, “I can't hate you for something you didn't consciously do.” He fills up a mug with more of that ginger tea and sets it before Suga, “Here. Would you hate me if I was the one who was drunk?”

“No.” Suga replies without hesitation. The omelettes taste as delicious as they smell. His stomach agrees with an enthusiastic growl for more. He raises the steaming tea up to his lips, but sets it back down. He sees what Ennoshita is getting at. Suga rests his head on his hand and regards Ennoshita with curiosity, “Would you forgive yourself for doing  _ that _ if you were drunk?”

Ennoshita contemplates the question for a while, tipping his head back and looking up into his bangs. “No,” he finally replies with a small smile. Now he understands Suga’s perspective.

Understanding flows between them as they see last night’s events in a different light through each other’s eyes. Suga feels the crushing weight of guilt lessen over his heart. They eat their breakfast in comfortable silence with Suga letting out an appreciative noise and Ennoshita responding with a sleepy smile.

By the time Suga is ready to leave they are both full and neither of them are bleeding. Suga will say it's a good morning given what happened last night. He slips on his shoes with Ennoshita’s shirt in a small paper bag under his arm. ”Thank you again, Ennoshita. For taking care of me, your troublesome upperclassman.”

Ennoshita leans against the doorframe with mug in hand, “Suga-san, you work too hard.” The corners of his eyes crinkle into a sincere smile. He nudges his mug into Suga's shoulder, the warmth seeping through his clothes. “It’s ok to let other people take care of you from time to time.”

Suga returns the smile and waves as he leaves, feeling lighter than he has been for a long time. 

+

Efficient as always, Suga has already repaired the shirt. In fact, it’s been a full week since he’s had all the buttons sewn on. He went the extra mile to iron it as well, making the shirt so crisp and clean it looks store-bought. The shirt hangs just inside the entryway so he won’t forget to return it. 

Yet for the past week every morning as he stepped into his shoes he would look at the shirt and hesitate, “I’ll return it tomorrow.” When he returned home from work the shirt brought him a strange feeling of false security. The kind that’s so flimsy it’s only holding up with sheer willpower and imagination. He thought, “I’ll deal with it tomorrow morning.” 

This morning is the same. He gets ready for work at a leisurely pace, humming this catchy song Tanaka showed him that he can't get out of his head. Just like yesterday the shirt glows bright white against the navy blue walls of the entryway. 

He sits down on the step to lace his shoes up, trying his best not to look at the shirt. But the world conspires against him. A shaft of early morning sunlight lets itself in through the window and touches the shirt. A glowing brightness calling to him out of the corner of his eye. He sighs and finally turns to the shirt once his shoes are on. 

He can’t ignore it anymore. 

The shirt isn’t the problem. It’s his cowardice. He drags a hand down his face and wraps his palm around his mouth, staring at the shirt. What is he going to do?

When he left Ennoshita's home that morning so elated was he from their moment of mutual understanding he blinded himself from an important detail. The hangover faded, so did the relief, which evaporated alongside the alcohol lingering in his system. Then clarity revealed that missing detail: Ennoshita saw him completely fall apart at the seams. All because of a breakup. 

How many years has it been? His mind pulls up the precise date. It's been three years. Three years too long for him to be pining after an ex who will never come back to him. 

Daichi was and still is his best friend. If he ever has a problem or something that worries him he has always been more inclined to talk to his best friend rather than trouble his parents. But who can he talk to if Daichi himself is the thing keeping him awake at night? He still doesn’t know what possessed him. 

One day he spilled out his true feelings to Asahi, unable to contain it with a smile anymore. Asahi was one of his closest friends. However, shoving his worries into Asahi’s glass heart wasn’t a good idea. He wished he never told Asahi. He should have known it was selfish to tell Asahi. From then on Asahi looked at him like he was a glass vase waiting to shatter at any moment. 

He dreads facing Ennoshita. He knows Ennoshita will have the same face as Asahi. That look he hates so much. 

The thought makes him feel naked and ugly, like a baby bird just broken out of its calcium prison. Pathetic. 

The shirt, in contrast is pristine and beautiful. 

Knowing Ennoshita, he might have just been trying to be nice. There's no way he would be fine with being assaulted by a drunk friend unable to cope with a three year old breakup. Ennoshita probably doesn’t want the shirt back. He’s never called or asked about it. Suga won't blame him if he never wants to have anything to do with him ever again. 

He smooths out the collar of the shirt. Taking the cuff of the sleeve he rubs the cotton between his fingers, taking in the slightly rough, textured surface. Absent mindedly he thinks it's like he's holding hands with Ennoshita’s shirt. 

A familiar warmth fills him, the gentle touch of a candle flame. Ennoshita's warmth. He remembers the patience Ennoshita showed him and the concern creased between his eyebrows when he had stabbed himself with the needle. 

He drops the sleeve and bangs his head against the wall. He's such an idiot. Ennoshita isn’t that type of person. How can he have judged Ennoshita like that in his own cowardice? 

He slaps his cheeks,  _ Let's return that shirt today!  _

While he still has the courage, before he can change his mind again he sends Ennoshita a quick text. 

**Suga:** Hey, Ennoshita! I’ll be dropping off your shirt after work. Is that ok with you?

+

Every few minutes Suga checks his phone for a reply. His phone is set to vibrate and it’s makes perfect sense that it’ll let him know when a text comes in. Still, for some reason he feels compelled to check his phone constantly. He can’t wait for his phone to vibrate. He has to see the message as soon as it comes in.

He taps about on his phone during break. As expected, his inbox is empty. Exactly the way it was ten minutes ago. At this point he can’t tell whether he’s relieved or nervous. 

The coward in him is relieved that he doesn’t need to return the shirt. At least, not yet. He doesn’t have to see the judgement in Ennoshita’s eyes. Though he doesn’t think Ennoshita will judge him, doubt is a funny thing. On the other hand he’s nervous that the coward is right after all. See how hilarious doubt is?

Just as he’s about to give up and accept that Ennoshita doesn’t want anything to do with him a notification pops up.

_ Snap out of it Koushi. Stop being so dramatic,  _ Suga scolds himself.

It’s the text from Ennoshita he’s been waiting for.

**Ennoshita:** That would be great! Would you like to stay for dinner?   
**Suga:** That would be really nice, Ennoshita. I wouldn’t want to trouble you though   
**Ennoshita:** Are you sure?   
**Ennoshita:** Ah, break is over. But let me know if you change your mind! See you later

+

After an uneventful day at work Suga finds himself in front of Ennoshita’s door. He’s been standing there fidgeting with the handle of the paperbag for five whole minutes. Needlessly checking over the shirt in the bag again for the hundredth time. The shirt is still as beautifully folded as it was this morning. With a hint of nervousness, Suga finally finds the courage in him to ring the bell.

His finger has barely left the button when almost immediately Ennoshita opens the door, startling him.

Suga stumbles back a step blinking in surprise, _ Was he right behind the door the whole time? How long was he there? _

“Sorry, did I scare you?” Ennoshita rubs the back of his head sheepishly.

“I’ve never seen anyone answer the door so quickly!”

“Sorry!” 

On the bright side the fright chases away all the nervousness stewing inside him. “Anyway, here’s your shirt,” Suga hands over the paper bag, head dipping down with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry it took so long to sew the buttons back on.”

“We’re saying sorry too much today. Come in and have some tea.” Ennoshita steps aside and gestures warmly into his welcoming home. 

Suga’s about to refuse when Ennoshita adds, “You can wait out the rush hour traffic for a bit, even if you’re not staying for dinner.”

That makes sense. He’s never liked sitting in a crowded train. It’s always hot and stuffy. “Alright, a cup of tea won’t hurt.”

Ennoshita’s home looks exactly how Suga remembers it. The cream carpet is delightfully fluffy and Suga notices with a chuckle that the furniture is still slightly askew. What was a hazard before in his drunken state Suga now finds oddly charming. 

Always the perfect host, Ennoshita has the tea prepared beforehand, “Don’t worry, it’s herbal so it won’t keep you up at night.” Ennoshita pushes one of the cups across the table towards him, “Lavender and chamomile.”

Suga guesses Ennoshita is a tea person. Last time he found a wide variety of teas in Ennoshita’s kitchen cabinet. All the smells-vanilla, black tea, rose, cinnamon-mingling together to form a sweet perfume. 

The amber yellow tea in his cup is liquid sunshine. Hot and steaming with fragrant lavender and soothing chamomile. It puts him at ease. He takes a sip and makes an appreciative noise. 

“Do you like it?” Ennoshita asks. 

“Yes. This has much more flavour than the ones I get at the supermarket. Which brand?”

Ennoshita’s entire face lights up. He must really like that brand. “It’s the one in the plain black packaging. I think it's literally called No Name. Hence the packaging choice. It’s cheap too.”

Suga nods, “I'll have to buy it next time I go grocery shopping.” He knows the one Ennoshita is talking about. The one in plain, unmarked, black boxes. They’re always tucked away at the very bottom. Visible, but unnoticeable until someone points it out. A shame for something that tastes so good. 

They are talking about the days they competed in Nationals (they didn’t end up winning, but it was still a fun experience) when Suga becomes noticeably distracted. His speech slows down and finally comes to a grinding halt in the middle of a sentence.

“Something wrong, Suga-san?” 

Suga twists around in his chair, following his nose.  _ Why does everything smell so good at Ennoshita’s house?  _ “No. Something smells amazing.” 

“That would probably be the chicken,” Somewhere in the kitchen a timer goes off. Ennoshita has all but disappeared, rushing off to turn it off after no more than three rings.

_ Ah, so that's how he got to the door so quickly,  _ thinks Suga.

When Ennoshita reappears seconds later he offers a bit of his chicken on a small plate. He slips a pair of chopsticks into Suga's hand. “Here, have a taste.”

Trying not to seem too eager, Suga pops the morsel into his mouth and instantly freezes. His eyes involuntarily begin to water. Flavour bursts in his mouth like a parade of fireworks. The initial tang of lemon cleanses the palette. Then the savoury taste of succulent chicken cooked to perfection takes the stage. To finish is a light but not unpleasant bitterness softened by the subtle sweetness of caramelised onions. Eyes wide Suga lowers his chopsticks from his lips. “I think I’ll stay for dinner after all,” he says quietly.

Suga shakes his head, snapping out of the deliciousness-induced daze he was in. “Only if you have enough for two that is! Ennoshita, you could be a chef. It tastes amazing!”

“Thanks,” Ennoshita grins with a light blush. 

Suga remembers he's never been used to receiving compliments. 

“It’s no trouble at all. Wait here and I'll bring the food out,” smiles Ennoshita. He takes away the small plate and hurries back to the kitchen. 

After inhaling his second helping of chicken Suga grows curious. Ennoshita has prepared exactly enough food for two, “How did you know I would change my mind?”

“I didn’t,” Ennoshita replies after gulping down a mouthful of rice. “But I never planned to let you leave without at least taking some dinner home with you. So I prepared your portion as well.”

Suga stares at the man across from him for a moment. Ennoshita’s hair is the same as it was back in high school. Parted immaculately to the side. He still has the same sleepy eyes, now framed by black-rimmed glasses. Just like in high school sometimes Ennoshita does or says something that completely surprises him.  

“You’re interesting, Ennoshita.” Suga concludes. 

“You only noticed just now?” 

They both laugh and finish their dinner. 

Suga leaves with a full stomach and an empty heart free of worry and nervousness. It turns out he shouldn’t have worried so much after all. The doubtful coward is wrong.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been dying to update this fic! So glad I finally got to do that. I'm hoping to update more regularly and try to work out a schedule for my fics. 
> 
> Anyway, a smidgen of fluff in this chapter V^^V I think a similarity between Suga and Ennoshita is they both try their best to help other people. 
> 
> Don't forget to comment and kudos if you've enjoyed it so far ^0^ I'd love to hear your thoughts!


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